


At last

by wifebeast__s



Series: The classics [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Light Angst, Multiverse, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Canon Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-26 18:42:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19011631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wifebeast__s/pseuds/wifebeast__s
Summary: Earth 807127. With the discovery of the Multiverse, Clint wonders if there’s another world where Nat is alive. He finds more than he anticipated.





	At last

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't expect Dream a Little Dream to be as well received as it was. And then I thought of this.

_At last the skies above are blue_

The farm was different here. Smaller. The swing wasn’t on the tree. But the scan they did said she was here. This wasn’t the first foray onto one of these alternate Earths, but there were even fewer times he had followed up on one of these leads. The farm made sense to him, after all. The sun was setting, casting the familiar terrain in the cool colors of dusk. 

When the idea of the multiverse had first been proposed, he had volunteered. He needed to know, had to be sure that somewhere, somewhen, Nat was alive. That she was whole and happy.

_My heart was wrapped up in clover the night I looked at you_

The radio was soft out in the yard, the sound growing louder but not harsh, as he approached the porch. He kept his steps light, unsure what he might find. It wasn’t a song that he knew by heart, but he remembered that Natasha would sometimes hum it quietly to herself. He asked once why that was, and she had just shrugged, “I like the classics.”

It was true. And it was something that she and Steve had bonded over in the early days of the Avengers. He would find them singing duets while dealing with some of the clerical and logistical parts of managing a superhero team. She had a beautiful singing voice; he wasn’t surprised, really. Everything Nat did she excelled at. Why wouldn’t she have an enchanting voice?

_I found a dream that I could speak to_

He was on the porch now, to the side of the window. Sure enough, Tasha’s voice joined that of the venerable Etta James, soft and mesmerizing. At the back of the house, he heard the other door open.

“Hey,” Nat’s voice drifted through the open window.

“Hey yourself,” came his own voice in response. 

This also wasn’t the first time he’d seen himself in one of these alternate universes, but it was always strange. He sounded just a little different in each one, he thought. Sometimes gruffer. Sometimes lighter.

He sounded fucking _happy_ here.

“Everything ok?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I just hoped to be back a little earlier.”

There was the clinking of a glass, something being poured, and then soft voices, too soft for him to hear, even with his hearing aids in.

_A dream that I can call my own_

He wanted to see her.

She was lovely in every one of these worlds. Sometimes her hair was straight; sometimes it retained its natural wave. Usually red, sometimes, though rarely, blonde. He was starting to crave the sharp spike in his chest when he would find her.

It was part joy and part pain. Seeing her alive helped erase the picture of her sprawled on the rocks below him on Vormir. It made it less likely that that would be the image greeting him when he closed his eyes. But he couldn’t waltz in and greet her, either.

She remained always just out of reach, and that burned in his chest. There she was, just beyond this wall.

_I found a thrill to press my cheek to, a thrill I’ve never known_

It took some time for him to realize that he heard no other voices that he associated with this place. Curiosity seized him. And a secret, forbidden hope.

He chanced a look through the window. The shades were mostly drawn, but through a tiny sliver, he could see inside. The interior was different. It wasn’t the classic midwest family furniture he was used to. It was comfortable enough, but simple. A table just barely visible had only two chairs.

That secret desire grew.

And there, just beyond the couch, he saw her. Black pants and her favorite gray hoodie - this was a place she felt safe, then. This was a place she called home.

“C’mere,” he heard his other self murmur.

An arm appeared around her waist, draped low, dangerously close to her hips, dangerously close to touching her in ways that he never could.

A soft, throaty laugh from her.

_You smiled, oh you smiled and then the spell was cast_

They were moving then. Closer to the door. He panicked, slipped off the side and ducked down, just as the door opened, spilling light onto the darkened porch.

“Mission was smooth enough,” he was saying, “just took forever.”

“That’s your problem, Barton. You’ve never been exceptionally efficient.’

He could imagine the other man’s face, since he was making it now, eyebrow arched in disbelief. He chanced a look.

He - the other him - rocked her gently, spinning her away, then back to him, “But I made it.”

“You did.”

“How was California?”

She laughed, “It was a mess. I may have met your match in terms of human disaster.”

Tony? He thought. Another wave of grief, just for a moment. He stole another glance at her.

He wondered if he’d ever seen her so happy. Once they had become partners, truly partners, not just in name, he had seen her close. Her posture, her warm, open smile - these were things he’d seen from her. But there was something else about her here. 

That secret hope was in his throat now, ready to spill out of his mouth. He wouldn’t put a name to it. He couldn’t. There were real reasons for that. But it was there just the same.

_And here we are in heaven ___

__“Glad you’re back,” she murmured._ _

__He stole another look, and his heart stopped._ _

__His private hope surfaced, swam vividly in his mind’s eye just before him._ _

__Him - this other version of him, in this other world - had his hand on her check, his arm in that low place over her hips. Her fingers were in his shirt. Their lips were brushing together. Soft, barely touching, really. But the sentiment was clear enough._ _

__This was an intimate moment._ _

__He had these moments with Laura._ _

__These were those instances that would lead to more. For a brief moment, that vivid fantasy swelled, followed this timeline to its inevitable conclusion - Tasha in bed with him, wrapped around him._ _

__Their kiss had deepened, eyes closed, pressed firmly against one another. After a moment they pulled apart, and he nudged her nose gently with his. She laughed against his lips, and they turned back to the house._ _

__Something like relief flooded him. Here, in this place, he had found what he hadn’t known he’d been searching for._ _

_For you are mine at last_


End file.
